


Requirement

by ewinfic



Series: Remote [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Soulmates, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinfic/pseuds/ewinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third part of the Remote series, where Steve and Bucky are telepathic soulmates:  A mission goes awry and Bucky ends up fixing the situation.  Steve deals with the inevitable fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requirement

"I count three guards."

_You missed one._

"... Make that four." Steve felt abashed, but he knew that Bucky's eyes had always been sharp, and were now doubly so. They each had their strengths, but Bucky in particular had superhuman sniper abilities. Steve heard a faint hiss over the com as the rifle spat out its rounds... one... two... three... four... each shot followed by a silhouetted figure collapsing in a heap.

"All clear, Cap."

"Natasha, status."

"Full suppression."

"Insertion in thirty seconds."

Steve ran to the entrance and hit the override code, entering the building smoothly as the door opened. The Hydra lab was manufacturing chemical weapons, so the usual incendiaries and explosives weren't a good idea. Steve and Natasha were to infiltrate and do the dirty work by hand.

He was getting accustomed to working like this; almost like the old days. He was brute force applied directly, Bucky was the eyes outside, keeping the perimeter safe. The only difference was that now Bucky preferred to use a tranquilizer gun. Steve didn't mind, as long as Bucky's aim held true... which it always did. Bucky sometimes felt that he wasn't doing enough though, and worse, he often felt that he was influencing Steve in a negative way. Steve didn't know how to reassure him.

The fact was, Bucky's new reluctance to use deadly force did have its effect on Steve. Particularly when Steve was working; he had to keep his mind closed because it distressed Bucky when he felt Steve kill. But the people they were fighting weren't the type to negotiate, and they certainly weren't the type to surrender. Many Hydra operatives still used the cyanide tooth trick. Hydra never seemed to recruit anybody who was afraid to die.

Steve dispatched eight Hydra operatives on his way to the interior of the facility, six guards and two lab techs, who seemed nearly as trained in aggression as the guards. The further in he traveled, the riskier his surroundings. Soon he wouldn't be able to use his shield for fear of breaking open a gas canister or a vat of toxic fluid. He knew that Natasha was close behind him. She was there to mop up any operatives that Steve left behind, but it was on Steve to do the majority of the fighting and secure her a pathway. They were headed for the network and command operations center of the facility, and shut down all production systems from the mainframe. Natasha could do this easily. Steve, not so much.

A thought rose in his mind like a shout, no words, just an image of twenty masked guards entering the facility from the west side. He instantly knew that Bucky had sent him a warning. There had been too many, moving too fast to pick them off one by one with a sniper rifle.

Steve turned back and sprinted down the hallway toward Natasha. He reached her at the same time that the guards from outside did, and the two of them fought together to subdue the crowd. It was tough, dirty fighting, the ferocity of two trapped animals rather than two soldiers, but they quickly gained the upper hand.

Steve paused to check Natasha's location, and that was when he noticed a white cloud pouring from the air vent above them. "Natasha, gas!" So that was why the guards were wearing masks. Steve and Natasha turned toward the exit, but it was too late... Steve felt sick and light at the same time, the world spinning, and then he was falling...

He woke on a carpet of leaves outside the building.

Natasha lay beside him, and he could tell that her breathing was a little too slow for a natural sleep. She was drugged. Steve still felt drugged himself, but his mind was clearing. He immediately mentally reached for Bucky.

_I'm right here._

The thought was cold and remote. Steve looked to his right and saw Bucky crouched nearby, holding a mini-Uzi as though it were a natural extension of his arm rather than a tool. Bucky had his face mask and goggles on.

_Bucky, what happened?_

_They knocked you out. I took care of it. You need to revive Natasha, the computer room is secured but I don't know how to disable anything without just trashing the place._

Steve swallowed a lump of worry in his throat... _I took care of it..._ he shut his mind around the thought. He turned to Natasha, fumbling for his adrenaline hypo.

She was coherent within five minutes, and able to stand in ten. It broke the clock they were on, but they still had a chance of completing this mission so long as no other surprises were sprung on them. Bucky opted to stay outside. Something told Steve that if more threats arrived, Bucky wouldn't rely on tranquilizer rounds. He had known that Bucky always carried more than one weapon, but the Uzi was still a surprise. It wasn't enormous, but it was big enough to make Steve wonder how Bucky had concealed it.

Neither of them had the equivalent of Bucky's face mask. Because it was Hydra-designed, it specifically filtered out Hydra's most common gas attacks as well as dozens of other airborne hazards. Natasha handed Steve a small nose-mouth filter. It would have to do. "We'll have to keep an eye on each other," he said.

She grimaced. "You'll need to keep an eye on _me_. Whatever hits us will hit me faster and harder. I should head in first. Remind me to tell Fury that I make a very bad canary."

"Copy that." They headed back in.

The air seemed clear, but Steve kept a careful eye on Natasha anyway, right up to the point where they ran into the group of guards that had surrounded them before. They both stopped.

Every guard's throat had been slashed. The wounds were practically uniform, as though some machine had done the work, using the exact same cutting motion at the same precise angle every time.

The floor was so slippery with blood that Steve and Natasha had to slowly pick their way through the dead. Steve kept his mind carefully blank. He knew he would worry about this later. For now, there was work to do.

But as they moved deeper into the facility, it seemed that there wasn't really any work left to do after all. Bucky had laid waste to every living thing they passed. The corpses in hallways and rooms were all either laced with bullets or throat-slashed like the guards at the front. They outnumbered Steve's kills five to one. He kept his mind clear.

They reached the mainframe and Natasha got to work, disabling what machines could be safely disabled, encrypting useful data, erasing the rest.

Steve carefully sent a thought to Bucky. _We are nearing completion, notify Fury we need extraction and medical attention for Nat._

_Copy._

On their way out, Steve glanced at Natasha, and said, "I'm not sure I want Fury to know about this."

She smirked. "To know that you and I actually failed, or that your boyfriend is a better killing machine than both of us put together?"

"Well, the first bothers me, but it's the second part that I really don't want him to find out. Bucky is our backup. He stays that way, if I have anything to say about it."

Natasha nodded. "Vaulted." Steve wondered at her ready agreement, but then realized that of all people Natasha would know what it was like to have someone you love damage himself in the process of having to fight.

They all had to be run through sanitizing procedures to rid themselves of any vestiges of the gas before they could be debriefed. Steve tried his best not to even look at Bucky. When his gaze wandered that way, he saw a look on Bucky's face that troubled him too deeply to even express.

Hours later, after an unusually quiet drive home, they finally sat down together. They were both in street clothes now, but to Steve it looked as though Bucky was still completely geared up. Something about his posture wasn't right for a civilian. Slowly, he let their link slide back into place. He explored Bucky's mind a little. It was like navigating a mine shaft full of spikes.

_Bucky._

_Yes?_

_Come back to me._

_I'm right here._

_No you're not. You've gone to that dark place you go when you kill. I need you to listen to my voice, and climb back out of there._

Bucky was silent, his face dark.

Steve moved to sit beside him, and put an arm around his shoulders slowly, letting his hand trace the lines of muscle across Bucky's upper back and arms. Bucky's muscles tightened at Steve's touch. He shuddered slightly.

_Come back to me. I love you. Come back._

_... Steve?_ Bucky looked at Steve with clouded eyes, and blinked a few times. He looked as though he were trying to work out a very complicated equation.

_That's right, I can see you now. Come on back._

Bucky's throat jumped, and he looked around the room aimlessly, and then back at Steve. His eyes were clearing, and a beseeching expression was coming into them. _Steve._

_Bucky, I'm here._

_I average one kill every eight seconds given an average distribution of people._

_Bucky, no._

_Why do I know that?_

_Because they trained you that way. But you are not just your training._

_What else am I?_

Steve kissed him. Bucky froze for a moment, but slowly began to respond, his mouth working as though learning to kiss for the first time. Steve whispered against Bucky's lips, "You're also my friend. And as it so happens, the person I love best in the world. Tell me you know me, Buck. Tell me."

"I... I know you." Bucky sighed as Steve began to lay a line of kisses down his neck. Steve pushed Bucky gently down into the cushions of the sofa, covering Bucky's body with his own as he called him back from that dark place. For some reason, sex worked better for this than anything else. Steve guessed that something so incredibly intimate must be the opposite of what it was like when Bucky went into killing mode; instead of feeling that other lives were objects impossibly distant from you, feeling that one person was a part of you and you were a part of them right back...

_Steve._

_Touch me._

_I can't._

_Sure you can. Just like this._

Bucky groaned deep in his throat, and slowly began to move his hands over Steve's body. Somewhere over the past year, he had learned a subtlety of movement with his metal hand that Steve found amazing. He seemed skittish of using it near Steve's cock, but everywhere else... Steve arched into the touch of warm flesh and metal.

"Say it, Buck."

"... ah... I can't."

Steve pushed himself up enough to take his shirt off, and helped Bucky with his. "You have to say it." He opened the front of Bucky's pants. "Tell me who you are."

Bucky gasped and threw his head back. "I... my name is James Buchanan Barnes..."

"That's right."

"Steve, it feels like... Jesus, don't stop doing that... it feels like..."

"Like you don't know who you are." _But I know, and I'm going to show you._ Steve pressed his hips in, rubbing against Bucky. That kind of friction wouldn't be enough after a few minutes. Steve began to softly count seconds against Bucky's ear. "Ten... eleven... twelve..."

At thirty, Bucky suddenly grabbed Steve and rolled their bodies, twisting his so that he was on top. "Enough," he growled. His face was fierce and intent now, but deeply alive and feeling. He yanked Steve's pants down his legs and leaned in, using his mouth and hands.

Steve gasped and thrashed around a little, but Bucky easily held him in place, keeping his hips immobile.

Steve wasn't a total innocent; he remembered the names that people used to call men who performed this act on other men. Names that implied servitude, weakness, softness. But none of those described what Bucky turned into when he was giving a blowjob. Ferocity, power, control; those were the words that applied. Bucky could play Steve like a violin, could make him squirm and make embarrassing noises, could keep him on edge for hours if he wanted. They had both discovered this early on, and Bucky loved exercising his power. Steve didn't mind much, either, though he often blushed when he encountered their neighbors the next day.

Bucky relaxed a little, easing off on Steve's cock, letting his tongue linger and massage. Steve fed Bucky his own pleasure over the link, and felt a wave of satisfaction in return. Bucky had him nearly to the edge of climax before it seemed possible, and held him there for long minutes as Steve groaned and panted for breath and clutched at the couch cushions. Nothing else on earth felt like this.

_So pretty..._ The thought was gently but affectionately mocking, and Steve suddenly knew everything was okay. Bucky's casually smug attitude was coming back.

But... _Pretty? I'm not pretty!_

_Oh yes you are._ Bucky gave Steve an image of himself, flushed, biting his lower lip until it swelled, eyes fluttering closed, droplets of sweat lining the muscles of his chest.

Steve felt himself blushing and shivering, and that was when Bucky let him come, giving him a full visual of his own face and body as he did so. Something about it was awful and amazing at the same time, and so intense that Steve almost tried to escape it, but Bucky kept the image firmly in his mind, making him watch and feel at the same time as his body flexed and released. Steve surrendered to it finally, letting Bucky have what he wanted: full and utter abandon.

They rested afterward, Bucky's cock still heavy and hard against Steve's hip as they kissed.

"Need me to take care of that for you?"

"Nah, I like the way it feels. I felt dead earlier; this feels alive."

"I'm glad you're back."

"Me too." Bucky sighed. "Okay, getting hot now."

"Then you should get off me."

"Not in a million years."

"I really don't think we're going to live that long."

"Only one way to find out."

"Bucky, seriously, get off me. We both need a shower."

Bucky just grinned and kissed Steve instead, holding him down. They wrestled for a few minutes. Steve let Bucky win.

_No you did not._

_Oh yes I did. You could never hold me down unless I let you._

_Watch me._

_Ass._

_Okay, for that, you don't get to leave the couch until I make you come again._

Steve laughed and tried to get away, but not very hard. He ran his fingers through Bucky's sweaty hair, pulling it gently, and tried not to think about the image of Bucky crouching beside him on a carpet of leaves, cold and lifeless as a statue, masked and deadly. He didn't want to think that both of those people could be Bucky.

But soon he couldn't think at all, he could only feel the two of them, alive, safe, and together.


End file.
